Kintla Flatlands That's just how I feel

Viggo knew all the right buttons to push to give Ptarmigan the feeling of elation, or perhaps he was merely the sort of wolf to errantly stroke a female's ego. Whatever the case, he immediately found himself in her good books, not that the Endore really had bad ones. She remembered those who fed her fire with compliments or favours, and easily forgot those who troubled her, if only because life was much too short for grudges and that sort of thing.

“What's this someone to you?” wondered Ptarmigan, though she wasn't really all that interested if it was a friend or something that he sought. Only news of a lover might interest her, solely so she could stalk the other female and pout hatefully, or something equally dramatic. After giving him ample time to respond however he chose (surely eliciting a glint in her eyes if he did joke about a lover), she chose to tackle his other question.

“Striking out,” she chirruped brightly, and then with a frown added, “but I didn't consider leading anyone. Do... You think I really could lead?” Rodeo and Quail certainly hadn't thought so, but then again, her parents had seen nothing but the lazy teenage side of her, which lived on to this day. Maybe Viggo had an eye for something she didn't know about herself... Or maybe Ptarmigan was just naive enough to believe anything. “Is that what you're doing, too?”